


let your waves crash down on me

by Suicix



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dates, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hot Weather, Implied/Referenced Sex, Introspection, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 08:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: It’s finally the weekend, the sun’s out (though it might be a littletoobright), and Jackson's seeing Mark. Win after win after win.





	let your waves crash down on me

**Author's Note:**

> i guess i just wanted markson summer fluff??? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It really is swelteringly hot, and not in the good way. _The good way_ is the shower’s temperature turned all the way up in the middle of winter, the bathroom a refuge from the cold outside. _The good way_ is working up a sweat after a good workout, making Jackson feel like he’s achieved something. The _best_ way is sweat sticking his back to the bedsheets as Mark fucks him, even more sweat shining on Mark’s chest and dripping down his forehead.

Unfortunately, right now isn’t any of that. For one, it’s the height of summer, not winter; two, Jackson doesn’t even want to think about the gym today; and three, Mark isn’t on top of him right now, isn’t inside him, didn’t even stay over last night. Still, they have plans to see each other today, and while they’ve made no real decisions about what they might actually do, Jackson can’t _wait._ It’s finally the weekend, the sun’s out (though it might be a little _too_ bright), and he’s seeing his boyfriend. Win after win after win. He just has the morning to get through, and then he can meet up with Mark. Jackson sits up and rolls out of bed. He can do that.

A few hours later and he’s bounding down the stairs in his building two at a time and walking out into the heat. It’s cooler now that he’s out of his apartment and closer to the ground, but the sun’s rays are still so heavy. Even the _shade_ is warm. Jackson’s just glad he has a cap he can shield his eyes with. He pulls it down a little more and sets off down the street, supposing he should be grateful it isn’t raining instead, like it has been so often recently.

The walk isn’t a long one, the perfect in-between distance for both of them, so when their agreed meeting place comes into view, there hasn’t been enough time for the heat to get uncomfortable. Mark’s there already, hands in his pockets as he waits, his cool so effortless, like gentle waves lapping at the shore. Sure, they’re meeting near the river, and the water’s probably the reason why it feels ever so slightly cooler, but Jackson wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that just simply being in Mark’s presence had that effect.

“Hey!” Jackson calls. He’s still on the other side of the road, but it doesn’t hurt for Mark to be prepared. “Mark-hyung!”

Mark turns a little, so he’s looking directly at Jackson, breaking out into a grin when he realises. He doesn’t shout a greeting in return, just keeps waiting in silence as Jackson gets closer, his smile constant. Jackson can’t keep the smile off his own face, feels like he could give the sun a run for its money with how wide and bright he thinks it must be. Mark definitely could.

“Hey,” Jackson says again when he’s finally at Mark’s side. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” says Mark, and it’s such a simple answer, but there’s a look in his eyes that seems to be saying even more than that. Jackson hopes it translates as _even better now you’re here._ Mark cocks his head in the direction of the riverside. “Shall we?”

Side by side, they head down the river. There’s a moment where Jackson considers reaching for Mark’s hand, but then thinks better of it: as much as he wants to, the prospect of them ending up with sweaty hands outweighs the benefits of holding Mark’s hand right now. Simply walking turns into looking for somewhere to eat lunch soon enough, and in the end, they just opt for one of their favourite restaurants, somewhere they know the food will be worth what they’re paying for it. The first time they came here, it was a group outing, them and five other friends around one of the big tables at the restaurant’s centre. The second time, it was a date, one of their very first ones, the two of them sitting near the back together, Jackson hoping that Mark wanted to kiss him just as badly as he did Mark.

Now, as they take a seat at the table beside that one, Jackson can’t remember how many times he’s been here, how many dates they’ve been on. Now, Jackson knows that when he leans in for a kiss, Mark will reciprocate, knows exactly what it means when Mark’s leg brushes against his under the table. There aren’t any reasons to wonder anymore.

Still, Jackson looks on in wonder as Mark’s eyes light up, as he blushes occasionally, as he rolls his eyes fondly, as he laughs and laughs and laughs. It’s always something that makes Jackson feel good about himself – making someone laugh, making a crack in someone and basking in the light that shines out of it – but especially when it’s Mark who’s laughing, unexpectedly loud, showing his teeth.

Jackson really can’t imagine Korea without this, without Mark – might have even gone back to Hong Kong had they not met. They _did_ meet, though, and now, Jackson has few doubts about wanting to stay. He still gets homesick sometimes, but it always helps to remember that Mark’s in the same boat. Before Jackson’s Korean was what it is now, he could talk to Mark in English or Mandarin if he wanted. Jackson will talk animatedly about China and then listen as Mark waxes poetic about LA. He wants to take Mark home someday, wants to go to America with Mark. Sometimes, when Mark tells him about California, his voice quiet in the dark of the night and his arms tight around Jackson, Jackson swears he can feel the hot sand of the beach between his toes, or what it would be like to dive into the pool at Mark’s parents’ house, submerged in the cool water. It’s not even because Mark’s descriptions are all that vivid – they’re both good at Korean now, but it’s not like either of them could write a novel in it – but because he’s describing it all so lovingly, like there’s something significant in every little detail. Jackson hangs onto every last word, even the ones he’s heard before. When it comes from Mark, it’s important. He’s a home away from home, even if they’re from different sides of the world: the West Coast versus the Far East.

Mark insists on paying for their meal (Jackson will pay him back later, whether that’s through buying them both drinks or ice cream or by really, _really_ making it worth Mark’s while in the bedroom – Mark doesn’t expect repayment, so it doesn’t _have_ to be monetary), and they head back outside. It seems to have got even hotter; Jackson can’t tell if that’s just because they’ve been in the air-conditioned restaurant or if the temperature really has risen. Either way, they carry on walking, popping into shops and pointing out anything that’s interesting on their way to nowhere in particular. (Mark buys some sunglasses. Jackson makes up a ridiculous story about a group of people they pass, at least five whole new inside jokes right there in his words.)

Eventually, they come across a bench facing the river and decide to take a seat. There are some people wake-boarding out on the water: it crosses Jackson’s mind that Mark said he wanted to do that someday. Maybe they can. Jackson shuffles close enough to Mark that their thighs touch.

“Babe,” Mark says, slinging an arm around him, and it’s just one word, not saying all that much at all, but it still manages to mean so much. Mark’s tone is so fond, and his touch is so warm (and would be even if it wasn’t the middle of summer), and like this, Jackson feels safe, loved. Like his heart is the sun, glowing inside his chest. “Come over tonight.” Mark’s voice is low, and warm like the air around them, his breath hot in Jackson’s ear. Jackson doesn’t even have to take a moment to consider: he thinks of Mark’s apartment, thinks of being out on the balcony as the sun sets, thinks of falling asleep and waking up in Mark’s bed (thinks of Mark fucking him on it), and nods.

“Of course,” he answers, leaning his head against Mark’s shoulder, breaking into another smile to rival the sun when Mark presses a kiss to the top of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading, everyone - you can also find me on tumblr @ vibetechs!!


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